When Love Met Quidditch
by Leslie Lady of Light
Summary: AU Meet Lily Evans, volatile journalist for Witch Weekly. Sparks fly when she is sent to cover the season of James Potter's Quidditch team...even though she knows next to nothing about Quidditch. Old flames, new crushes and love triangles galore!
1. Meeting James Potter

Author's Note: Yes, I'm starting yet another story. It was too tempting. This is an AU; James and Lily don't know each other; James is a professional Quidditch player, Lily a slightly snobby journalist. For once, I decided to take James's side, if you know what I mean ;) 

Summary: Lily Evans is a successful journalist for Witch Weekly, James Potter, Quidditch ace and star Seeker for the Montrose Magpies. Needless to say, things get interesting when the two meet for the first time when Lily is told to cover the team's season, despite her certain hatred for the game. 

Disclaimer: Posting of this story does not indicate any claim on author's part to steal the wonderful work of J. K. Rowling, nor will it ever. 

**When Love Met Quidditch **

By: Leslie Lady of Light

**_Chapter 1: Meeting James Potter_**

_"-surrounded by cheering crowds of young British witches and wizards, singing sensations the Weird Sisters raised spirits and Galleons at the St. Mungo's Benefit Concert last Thursday, 6th April. While not, by any means, an avowed fan of the increasingly popular rock group of witches, your music and arts reporter found the affair to be an interesting if not expensive experience. Indeed, the second number, entitled, "Don't Throw Your Brooms out the Window," particularly intrigued your reporter, because of its-" _

"Lil?" 

The petite red-haired witch scribbling furiously at her desk with a pen and parchment, looked up blankly as a tall, pretty brunette poked her head around the partition, a sheaf of papers in hand. 

Trying hard not to sigh as she felt her concentration and her train of thought disappearing, Lily Evans leaned back in her chair, holding her right hand, which tended to get sore from all the scribbling. Still, Lily wasn't about to complain; a job at _Witch_ _Weekly_ in the Arts section was no mean feat to earn and she had done it, all before her nineteenth birthday. 

A source of jealousy among the other, middle-aged matrons of the section, to say the least. 

"What is it, Sarah?" she asked, setting her quill down carefully beside the wet parchment. Her friend and fellow reporter, Sarah Wallace walked in and dropped the papers onto Lily's desk, ignoring her best mate's growls as the ink smeared messily across the parchment. 

"Read that," Sarah ordered; she waited, hands on her hips, as her friend scanned the cover sheet. She smiled in satisfaction as, a moment later, her friend's countenance lit up with righteous anger; one could always count on Lily to defend the weak. 

Especially in this case. When the weak was her own self.

"How can they _do _this?" Lily demanded, her green eyes bright with fury. "They _can't_ combine _Witch Weekly _with _Which Broomstick_!" Her scathing referral to the latter, a popular Quidditch magazine, showed her opinion of it. 

"They can and they are," Sarah said grimly. "And it gets worse. Read on." 

Lily scanned the second page, uttered an ejaculation of horror then quickly flipped through the third, fourth and fifth pages of the small bundle of woe. Sarah wisely stepped aside as the packet went flying out the small, cluttered cubicle and hit the opposite wall. A dumpy, ginger-haired witch picked it up and sniffed at Lily, who was known around there for her volatile temperament. 

"They-they can't do that," Lily stammered, trying to keep her rage in check. "They _can't_ do that, and I _won't_ do _that_, either." 

Sarah scowled as well. "You haven't got it so bad. If they're going to transfer half our staff to _Which Broomstick_ to make theirs as good a magazine as ours, which, first of all, isn't humanly _possible, _they could at least make some appropriate changes. I don't know the first thing about the latest models of brooms!" 

Lily nodded sympathetically. "But I haven't got it much easier, have I? Assigned to some thick Quidditch team for an entire season? I don't even know the first _thing _about Quidditch!" 

Sarah grinned, taking momentary delight in her friend's predicament; sadly enough, it was true: Lily Evans had never shown the slightest bit of interest in the sport of Quidditch; it was doubtful if she even knew what the positions were. If only _she _could have gotten that job…but it was useless to question Willis's decisions: he _never_ changed them. If she had to learn how many different models of broom a company came out with, she would have to learn. 

Still, it _would_ be fun to match Lily's temper and hatred of Quidditch with her avid desire to become an editor of _Witch Weekly_ and continue her literary pursuits. 

"Which team have you got?" 

"Montrose Magpies. Whatever they are. If they're anything like real magpies, I'm guessing they're not pleasant."

"Don't be so silly, Lil," Sarah scolded. "They're the best team in England and Ireland combined. _And _they've got that ace Seeker, James Potter. He's as devilishly cute as he is brilliant. The first game they played with him, they won by a hundred and forty points! And he's only 21!" 

"Sarah." 

"Honestly, I don't know why _you're_ complaining; you get to be with Potter day and night for six months. If anybody's got the rough side, it's _me_." 

"Sarah."

"_What_?" 

"I do not _care_ how cute or brilliant James Potter is, because I will _never _meet him. I am _not _going to take this job and that's that." She picked up her ruined parchment and started to fix it, pointedly ignoring Sarah, who sighed, wondered what made her still stay friends with Lily, and headed out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A week later, Lily Evans found herself on a deserted street corner of a small town in the South of England; in her hand, she held her wand, a small light glowing at the tip; in her pocket, was her trunk, shrunk to a pocket-able size. She peered around the gloomy place and shivered: although the street held storefronts and what she could only assume were houses, there was not a soul in sight and the entire place had a haunted look to it. 

Lily hated haunted houses.

She scowled and tapped her foot as she waited for whoever was supposed to pick her up; they were already half an hour late and Lily had, by no means, arrived early; punctuality was not one of her virtues. 

She still couldn't _believe _she was here. Wherever here was. Still, Lily would never have expected the last week to have been so out-of-her-control. And Lily liked to have a firm grip on everything in her life. But when Willis had flatly told her to either take the new job or pack up and move on out, she had had no choice. Lily felt she should have expected that. So here she was, waiting at a street corner in the middle of a lonely street somewhere in England, wrapped tightly in a black and green cloak, clutching a satchel with half a dozen Quidditch books in it. 

Lily supposed that covering a Quidditch team's season would require her knowledge of at least the basics. 

So, for the first half an hour, she had perused _Quidditch__ Through the Ages_, and found that Quidditch was, in fact, more widely common than she had thought and also, slightly more interesting. After reading, however, with increasing horror, about the games the early witches and wizards had played, Lily had nearly turned around and Apparated back home; Quidditch was clearly a violent sport that had no room in it for 158 cm. witches. 

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself of the sort of welcome she would receive if she showed up at the doorstep of _Witch Weekly_, Lily had continued to read, this time, full of amusement at the poor standards of writing the Saxons had had. 

Still, when Lily had read about the hunting of the Golden Snidget, she had to stop because she couldn't see for rage. How _dare _those crackpot old fools hunt innocent little birds for _sport_? Lily had been ready to curse the bloody idiot that was late to pick her up the moment he arrived, but upon contemplation, decided that it would be better to go back docilely with him, and curse the entire team.

She had just been about to pick up the book again when with a loud Pop!, a tall, dark-haired man Apparated next to her. Lily scowled as his feet landed in the dirty streets and splashed mud onto her clean robes but, for once, said nothing. 

"Hello. I'm James Potter. You must be the reporter from _Which Broomstick_. Sorry to have kept you waiting," the man said, a little breathlessly, holding out a hand to her even while he straightened out his robes and ran a hand through a headful of untidy black hair. 

Lily scrutinized him but did not shake his hand. After a second, he shrugged and fixed his silver-rimmed glasses before glancing around the deserted street. 

"This way, then," he said before heading off briskly towards the forest that grew right up to the edge of the ghost town. He turned to look at her as she hurried to keep up, impatiently hoisting her satchel over her shoulder. After a second, he wordlessly held out a hand for it; Lily looked up, surprised, and handed it over before she could think about it. 

"Suppose we start over then," the man, James Potter, said genially. "I understand you were annoyed at having to wait and I apologize for that. _I'm_ James Potter. And _you_, charming lady, must be our reporter from _Which Broomstick_…"

"Lily Evans."

"Ah. Lily Evans. Lily. May I call you Lily? May _we _call you Lily?" He smiled at her and Lily found herself smiling back against her will; James Potter sure had a contagious grin. 

"You may," Lily said, permitting herself another smile. 

"Right. So Lily, let me tell you right off that we Magpies are _immense_ fans of _Which Broomstick_. You must be proud, to write for them, at such a young age." 

Instantly, Lily stiffened and the traces of her smile that had lingered around the corners of her mouth vanished. 

"It is not a matter of pride to _me_," she informed him curtly, and refused to meet his eyes when he shot her a confused glance. 

"Alright, then. This is our stop." He smiled at her before stepping off the dirt path and into the forest, stopping a few feet in to rummage into the bushes; he emerged with a Snitch so old its wings no longer fluttered; as James held it, it flapped feebly a few times in his strong grip. 

_Got a way with Snitches_, Lily thought with a slight smile, before she remembered _Quidditch__ Through the Ages_.

Lily wasn't sufficiently mesmerized by his strong and supple hand to forget the poor Snidgets. She thawed up again. 

This time, James didn't even try and ask what he had done. Holding out the walnut-sized ball to her, he smiled as he said cheerfully, "I'm afraid you'll have to touch my hand now, miss. The Portkey's only so small, you see." 

Lily flushed with embarrassment and with a toss of her head to show that she really couldn't care less, placed her hand on his, ignoring the jolt that went through her body at the touch of his callused and powerful hand. James grinned again (Does _he ever stop smiling_, Lily thought, a trifle exasperatedly) and muttered a few words under his breath. Lily felt the familiar jerk as her feet were lifted off the floor; she felt herself crashing into James Potter as the old Portkey shudderingly transported them; even through the dizzying sensation that accompanied transport by Portkey, she couldn't help noticing that James had a very firm, well-sculpted body (_likely from Quidditch_, she thought before she realized it and stopped herself, appalled).

Lily stumbled into James as they finally landed on firm ground again; he put out an arm to steady her and Lily jumped away from the muscled appendage as though it were a snake; for some reason, she did _not _want to touch James Potter.

James, apparently, hadn't noticed. "So, this is it," he said cheerfully, taking in the lush green surroundings in the middle of a wilderness somewhere in Southern England. "Welcome home." 


	2. Meeting the Lads

A/N: Sorry if updates are kind of slow, I have exams and a headache and my sister is my typist…I sit in study lab and write the chapters…makes me feel like a real writer…;)

Also, I know I mentioned James as Chaser in the first chapter but I changed it to Seeker.

Chapter 2: Meeting the Lads 

After a good night's rest in a comfortable room slightly separated from the rest of the team's, Lily woke up, feeling refreshed enough to tackle the entire team.

There was a knock on her door as she finished showering and dressing; Lily hurried to open it and found the same man from yesterday, James Potter, was it?, standing there, grinning down at her.

"All set?" he asked brightly. Lily nodded and hurriedly grabbed her magical camera, notebook, bag, and Quick Quotes Quill; she followed James through the maze of corridors, nodding with growing confusion as James pointed out the lounge, team rooms, coach's room, trainer's room, physician's room … 

"Don't they all come out to the pitch?" Lily asked desperately.

James turned around and grinned. "Of course," he said, flashing an amused smile at her anxiety. "I trust you can find THAT."

Lily nodded; it was impossible to miss the large black and white stadium, with a huge statue of a magpie perched on top. James, she noticed, was already in his Quidditch robes, black and white with a magpie on the front and his mane on the back. (A/N: Too lazy to check if that's right; some kind soul check _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and help me out.)

"What first? When do you start practice?" 

Lily peered into one of the rooms as James whisked her along and caught an eyeful of fluttering Golden Snitches; they weren't real, Lily noted grimly.

James caught her and smiled. "That's my kingdom. I call it the Snitch Room. As Seeker, I'm the best at handling those little buggers."

Lily deftly flipped open her notebook and sucked her Quick Quotes Quill as she rushed; she set it down a moment later and repeated, "That's my kingdom. I call it the Snitch Room. As Seeker, I'm the best at handling those buggers,"; she smiled as her words flowed in a curvy handwriting over the parchment then scowled. 

The pen was now scribbling, "_The ace reporter, Lily Evans, obviously takes pride in her skill with Snitches, a rather odd sentiment coming from –"_

"Not Lily Evans, damn it!" Lily shouted at it. "JAMES POTTER." 

"-_said Lily Evans also has quite a temper,_" continued the quill, unperturbed. "_Angered by the insolence of this wonderful invention of Rita Skeeter, copyrighted 1973, Lily Evans proceeds to vent out her anger in a childish tantrum-_"

Lily pulled the quill off the parchment and threw it as far away from her as she could, then tore off the ruined parchment, crumpled it and tossed it as well.

"Not a bad arm, Miss Evans," a voice came from next to her. Lily jumped and turned to find James smirking at her and blushed. 

"Damn thing never listens to me, anyway," she muttered, pointedly pulling out a regular muggle pen; James looked at it curiously. "Muggle invention. Saves my neck all too often." She sighed and gestured for James to continue.

The team was already at breakfast when James and Lily walked into the small dining hall. Lily scribbled away with her pen as she took in the not-so-posh surroundings, only pausing to look up when the pair was greeted by wolf whistles and calls of, "Where'd you pick up the doll, Potter?"

"Lucky bloke, how the hell did he even get OUT if THIS hellhole?" an insolent voice drawled, somehow managing to be heard above the din though the actual tones were lightly uttered.

Lily started at the sound of the hauntingly familiar voice; she looked up at the speaker in surprise and trepidation and encountered a pair of well-known coal black eyes matched with thick inky hair and tanned olive skin. Glancing back at her notebook she wrote, "hellhole," her hand shaking slightly.

James had put his hand on her shoulder to lead her to the team; his keen eyes spotted the word, neatly scrawled and he scowled. "You can't write that!" he said angrily, trying to take her notebook. Lily's, for once, quick reflexes helped her resist the quick grab.

"I can and I will," she said coldly before walking over to introduce herself to the tall, graying man at the end who she assumed was the coach.

"Hello, I'm Lily Evans, reporter from-" she shuddered, "-_Which Broomstick_." 

The team's faces lit up and there was appreciative applause. Lily rolled her eyes.

"So we're finally good enough to get covered by Which Broomstick, eh?" a tall man with long dark hair and eloquent blue-gray eyes asked, a smile lighting up his handsome face. Without waiting for her answer, he held out a hand and added, "I'm Sirius Black… Beater." (A/N: Had to get him in there and of course, had to give him the best opening ;))

The coach rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's Sirius. Barking mad but we take what we can get," he quipped, and the whole team erupted in laughter, Sirius loudest of all.

"Anyhow, I'm the coach, Ian Brigham. I've coached the Magpies for 20 years, ever since I stopped playing for them. We can't tell you what an honor it is for _Which Broomstick_ to cover us like this. We'll play extra good for you, won't we, lads?" he asked the team; they roared in approval.

_Men_, Lily thought as she smiled and shook hands as the team stood up to introduce themselves to her, _complete loonies, all of them._

In addition to James, Sirius and…_him_, there were twelve other young men (Lily's eyes glinted as she realized there were no women other than herself present); she shook hands and smiled politely at Henry, Patrick, Brian, Alex, Joe, Stan, Max, Curt, Jason, Sean, Dan and – Lily stopped in front of the last man, the one who had first caught her attention; she drew in a sharp breath as she met the same fierce black eyes and a feral smile, and did not offer her hand. 

"Sanders," she said coolly, not taking her eyes off him.

A flash of brilliant white teeth was her only response; he had never been very vocal. 

They stared at each other for another few seconds until the man, who, from the looks of it, had been trying to stare Lily down, gave a short mirthless laugh as he finally stretched out a hand with a lazy grace. 

"Was a time when you would have called me by my given name, Miss Evans," he drawled, his hand still outstretched. 

Lily scowled and turned away, not even bothering to reply, pointedly ignoring the lean yet dangerous arm extended towards her.

James Potter watched the whole exchange, mystified.


	3. On the Playing Field

A/N: Two chapters in one day! To make up for the next two weeks which are going to be hell. So no more updates til May 8th. 

Also, spacing is AGAIN being a beast so bear with it. Also italics and bold are randomly showing up or not showing up. I give up so I'm just going to put the WORDS on here and forget the pretty stuff ;)

  
Chapter 3: On the Playing Field

After breakfast, Lily joined the team as they marched out to the pitch; she took a seat in the bleachers, set put up her roll of parchment and rummaged though her hair for her Quick Quotes Quill; it wasn't in its usual spot, stuck through her hastily netted red hair. 

She cursed aloud when she remembered that she had thrown it away that morning; sighing, she took out her muggle pen and her wand, tapped the pen with the wand and muttered, "Scribilo,"; she balanced the pen on the paper and said, "My name is Lily Evans," smiling in satisfaction as her words flowed out of the dancing pen. 

This wouldn't start writing rubbish on its own anyway, still, she should find her quill; it was one of the few gifts her last boyfriend had given her before he ran off to become a Muggle policeman. Pushing any thought of that wanker out of her mind, she turned her attention, instead to the practicing team.

Lily leaned forward and squinted at the players, now zooming around fifty feet above the ground; she groaned after a minute; it was damn near impossible to make out faces much less expressions. She supposed she would have to get up there with them.

Cursing the day she had walked, quaking, into Willis's office, Lily got up, threw her notebook and pen into her bag and climbed over the railing to walk onto the smooth green pitch; (yet another thing Lily did not understand about Quidditch: why spend Galleons making a beautiful green lawn when the entire game was played in the air?).

She shaded her eyes with her hand and glanced from distant figure to figure; after a minute, she whistled, piercingly, her fingers in her mouth like Rob had taught her (never mind who THAT was.) After a second, a figure zoomed down towards her, landing so close she jumped back, startled.

She looked back up into the grinning face of James Potter. "You called, your highness?" he asked cheerfully.

 Lily nodded. "I can't see a thing from down here," she informed him. "Could you get me a broom?"

James looked surprised but nodded immediately. He strode off the field, gesturing for Lily to follow, explaining, "You might as well learn your way around here."

Lily followed James through the maze again, trying to remember where she had dropped her quill… near the Snitch Room, if she remembered correctly.

"Uh, I need to go back for my quill too," she told his back as they hurried, Lily wishing they could, for once, walk slowly; her slightly breathless tone must have alerted him because he slowed down and turned into a door, filled with broomsticks.

"Sure, we can stop there. I think you threw it somewhere near the Snitch Room." 

He turned and looked at Lily appraisingly then picked out the oldest broom, a Cleansweep 2 and handed it to her; Lily crinkled her nose at it; she might be ignorant at Quidditch but she COULD tell the difference between the new brooms racked against the wall and the twiggy, old one that James was offering her; shaking her head, she pointed to a slightly newer one, with, at least, no twigs sticking out the back; James raised an eyebrow but gave it to her, wondering how, working for _Which Broomstick_ and all, she didn't know that a Nimbus 1215 was made for speed.

They picked up Lily's quill then headed back outside, again at an alarmingly brisk trot. James vaulted over the railing and with a quick wink at her, ran to the pitch, mounted his broom in mid-jump and kicked off.


	4. Brushes with Brooms

A/N: Please go back and re-read Chapter 2; I changed a few things and added an IMPORTANT character. Anyway, I know I said no updates til May 8th but I wanted to tell everybody to check the new version of Chapter 2 and the only way to get your attention was by another chapter. Oh well. This is the first chapter that I'm writing and uploading right away…we'll see how it goes. 

Chapter 4: Brushes with Brooms

Lily frowned after James for a second after he left, then carefully mounted her broom (to her delight, it was relatively simple.) She practiced flying at a low height and taking both hands off and scribbling on her parchment – it was slightly more difficult but not unmanageable. 

Feeling reasonably confident of her abilities, Lily slung her bag over her shoulder and kicked off the ground; she was immediately pulled backwards as the broom started moving upwards at a 90-degree angle. Tightly clutching the handle, she carefully guided the temperamental and unsteady broom higher up, taking care to remain well to the side, away from where the team zoomed. 

Once she had reached the same height as the players, Lily set her broom to hover in mid-air; pulling out her wand, she muttered a Stilling Charm to steady the wiggling piece of wood. 

She pulled out her notebook and her Quick Quotes quill, sucked on the latter and flicked open the former, keeping her eyes on the players as she tried to take in what they were doing. 

To the Lily of a week ago, it would have looked like the seven men currently flying around (the other five waited off to the side) were trying to commit suicide; they dipped, swerved and dived in odd angles and maneuvers; she saw the man she remembered had introduced himself as Sirius, violently smacking heavy-looking balls with a club; she had a sudden vision of the club, manned by a very strong looking Sirius, hitting balls at her and hastily descended a few more feet until she was out of the line of fire. 

Still, that was the Lily of one week ago. Now she knew that Sirius, the Beater, was really only hitting Bludgers (even their names were appropriate, Lily thought wryly; just because she was learning about Quidditch to save face didn't mean she LIKED it any more than before!) at his fellow teammates because Ian had ordered him to; Sirius had seemed like a nice bloke: Lily didn't believe him REALLY capable of cold-blooded murder. 

Sanders, on the other hand…

Lily pushed him out of her mind and turned her attention to three of the players who were flying closely, tossing a red ball between them, setting down the quill on her parchment as she did so. She watched, in slight fascination, as one of the men dropped the red ball (which, she now knew, was known as the Quaffle – COULD you think of weirder names?); instead of plummeting straight to the ground like any ordinary ball, the red leather ball slowly drifted – upwards. She watched as the three Chasers pointed at it and laughed; whipping out her camera, she snapped a quick picture of the obviously malfunctioning Quaffle, with the three inept Chasers fooling around in the background. 

Lily followed the smooth strokes of the other Beater, Dan, for a moment then turned to James, who didn't seem to be paying much attention to anybody else around him. Frowning slightly, she pulled out her copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_, and quickly skimmed the section about the players…oh, that was it. James was Seeker, as Sarah had mentioned; that meant he could wander around, doing whatever he wanted, until he spotted the Golden Snidget. Snitch. They didn't kill poor animals anymore. Right. That still didn't make it a nice game.

Lily leaned back slightly on her broom, careful not to look down (she was afraid of heights and they sent her to cover Quidditch!) as she watched James interestedly: he was a very good flier (and Lily knew absolutely NOTHING about flying techniques; she could sit on a broom and order it to fly up, down, left, right, end of story) and he seemed to not even be aware (as Lily constantly was) of the broom underneath him; indeed, he seemed molded to his broom, the two flying in perfect unison; at times, he even took his hands off as he passed one or the other of the players, swatting them on the heads while they practiced. 

No hands? 

Wow. 

Lily was just settling into a more comfortable position on her broomstick as she continued to watch James when a flash of black caught her eye; she turned her head slightly and focused instead on the player manning the goals…Sanders.

Lily's stomach clenched unconsciously as she watched his fluid movements in front of the three goal posts; she stared, unashamed, taking in his long, lithe body, his thick, too-dark hair, his flashing eyes, as he saved goal after goal…of course he was good. Sanders was never NOT good at anything.

At that moment, he turned around to shout something at, not to, Lily noted grimly, one of the Beaters, Sirius, she thought it was, for hitting a Bludger into his wrist; she saw his sinewy wrist hanging at an odd angle; Lily started forward unintentionally as he suddenly looked up and met her eyes with his own night-dark ones; she stared at him, drawing in a sharp breath, moving forward slightly, unable to pull her gaze away; she had, however, forgotten that she was sitting on a broom. 

With a shriek of dismay as she leaned too far forward, Lily tumbled off her broom, and towards the ground, fifty feet below. 


	5. Undue Tensions

A/N: YES! Exams are OVER! Ok, back to REGULAR updates mates. 

ALSO…don't flame me too much for the little side additions…Lily and James WILL become Lily and James eventually… ;) 

…With a shriek of dismay as she leaned too far forward, Lily tumbled off her broom, and towards the ground, fifty feet below…

Chapter 5: Undue Tension 

Lily screamed, one long, anguished cry, as she plummeted lower and lower, then went silent, bracing herself for the fall, for a swift death. _God, let it be quick,_ she prayed, her eyes tightly shut, her body rigid. She fell still lower and winced in anticipation of the loud crash. 

It never came. 

One moment Lily was falling, the next suspended in space, clasped tightly in the arms of a black-haired, grim-faced man; Lily sighed in relief and felt her rescuer's arms tighten around her limp frame before she blacked out. 

When she came to, a babble of voices hit her ears. Still too stunned and tired to open her eyes, Lily lay on the soft ground, listening as her racing heart slowly returned to normal. 

"What the hell happened?" 

"I dunno, you see?"

"I wasn't watching 'er! I was tryin' to stop that bloody Bludger from breaking me nose!"

"What was she doing on a broom, ANYway?" Lily jolted abruptly back to consciousness, recognizing the belligerent tone. 

"She said she couldn't see." The reply came in a defensive voice she recognized as James Potter's. 

"Bloody OBVIOUSshe can't fly," the argumentative voice continued, rising in volume; Lily winced slightly as the sound assaulted her ears.

Instantly, somebody bent over her, concern evident in his tone. "Are you all right?" 

Lily opened her eyes slowly and looked up into James Potter's worried face. Grimacing slightly, she took the offered hand and sat up slowly, glancing around at the surrounding crowd with growing embarrassment. A harsh voice recalled her. 

"What were you even doing up there? You KNOW you're afraid of heights." 

James, who was still leaning over Lily, looked up into Damien Sanders' angry face in astonishment. 

Lily winced as murmurs rose around her and turned to face Sanders. He was staring at her accusingly, his arms crossed. 

Lily stared at him for a second then said in a carefully calm, quiet voice, "So what if I am?" She met his gaze evenly, her eyes veiled and expressionless; her tone was that of one admitting that one had just skived off from school, NOT one admitting that, having been sent to report QUIDDITCH, one could not FLY.

To anybody else, it would have appeared as though Lily was shamelessly trying to stare him down, but Sanders knew better: Lily was silently confessing her bluff and begging him not to turn her in. (A/N: HORRIBLE diction Leslie!)

Sanders ignored the stares of the team, and after a minute, shrugged lightly and turned away; Lily, still staring after him, saw that his broken wrist hung at an even worse angle than before. She stood up abruptly and hurried after him, ignoring the amazed gazes of the team, especially James Potter. 

"D-Damien," she called hesitantly, as she hurried after him; Sanders stopped in mid-stride and after a half-second, with an effort, began walking off again. 

"Damien," Lily called again, breaking into a run until she caught up with him; she put a hand on his arm and turned to face him, blocking his path. Sanders scowled and moved to brush past her, growling as Lily blocked him again, this time, grabbing his broken arm; Sanders suppressed a wince and extricated his arm from her grasp; he did stop walking, though. 

For a second, he gazed steadily down at her, then muttered, "What?" 

Lily blinked several times, caught off-guard by his too-dark eyes, then said quickly, "I can-can I fix your arm?" 

Sanders looked at her for a long minute then held out his arm wordlessly; Lily smiled, relieved, and turned to rummage through her bag for her wand.

Short, no? More later this weekend, hopefully. Also, for those of you in the States, check out the ABC Network Premiere of HP & the Sorcerer's Stone at 6/7 Central, with sneak previews to PoA!! Can't wait for no. 3 personally!


	6. Suspicious Circumstances

Chapter 6: Suspicious Circumstances

Lily joined the team in the lounge that night, though she was tired, cross and emotionally drained. Still, after a hot shower and a short nap, Lily felt as ready as she ever could be, considering who would be present, to join the rest of the team.

After getting lost three times, Lily hesitantly stepped into the team lounge, unsure of what kind of reception she would receive; she HAD run off in the middle of practice, after mending Damien Sanders' arm.

There was a hush as the entire team turned to regard her, then, voices, whistles and friendly calls hailed her; Lily smiled in evident relief as she joined a group lounging by the fire, bottles of fire-whiskey in hand (A/N: Can't get off the durned stuff!)

She took a seat in a deep armchair, sighing tiredly.

"Tired?" James, who was next to her, asked. Lily nodded and gratefully accepted a bottle of fire-whiskey, not even bothering to look up: only one person in this room would offer her alcohol anyway. James looked a little surprised and glanced up at Sanders, who stared evenly back before falling lazily into an armchair across from them, his own drink clutched in his hand.

James turned back to Lily, who was taking sips from her bottle, nodding as she scribbled quotes in her notebook with her Muggle pen; one of the Beaters, Sirius, leaned over her chair, laughing as he joked around, causing Lily to cross out her sentences three times. Giving up finally, she laughed, a little drunkenly, and patted his cheek before shooing him away; immediately, another player filled his place.

"Hey. Don't you want any quotes from me? We've only got ONE Seeker," James joked, trying to get her attention. Lily ignored him.

"Or Sanders. He's the only Keeper."

Lily looked up, her attention caught; she glanced into Sanders' dark, entrancing eyes and found they were fixed on her. Lily bit her lip nervously as he took a sip of fire-whiskey, not taking his eyes off her.

Abruptly wrenching her gaze away, she shifted to face James, too aware of Sanders' continued gaze.

"What-what do you think-?" Lily stumbled and put a hand to her hot forehead, pushing her damp hair out of the way; she instinctively moved to take another sip of fire-whiskey – hadn't that been HIS philosophy: if you're feeling drunk, drink some more?

_Forget him_, Lily told herself angrily.

_It's a little hard to, don't ya think?_ her mind retorted caustically and Lily felt her overheated face flush.

She absently took two more sips, mechanically writing down what James was saying; she stopped when the voice cut off abruptly, and looked up in confusion.

James was frowning at her; before Lily could ask what was wrong, he had grabbed her bottle of fire-whiskey out of her hand. "I think you've had ENOUGH," he said severely before jumping back into his quote, leaving Lily reeling.

Apparently, it wasn't a philosophy of James Potter as well.

* * *

It was well over midnight when Ian forced the team to go to bed. They stood up, slowly, swaying after their fire-whiskey binges, and began to stagger off.

James looked down at Lily, who was asleep on the couch, her legs in an unconscious Henry's face. He sighed and reached over to wake her up.

"W-what?" she mumbled as James shook her. She stretched slightly as she turned over and James was again struck, as he had been the first time he saw her, by the 158 cm. of luscious woman that lay before him. And was near passed out from fire-whiskey.

_God, why DID they send them a reporter like THIS,_ James thought with a groan. He could HEAR the randy comments already.

"Get up. Go to your own room," James said brusquely, helping her stand; she stumbled slightly and somebody behind James steadied her. James looked back at Sanders warily.

"I'll take her, you look wasted," he muttered, shifting his weight to better support the again sleeping Lily.

"No, I-" James broke off, flushing slightly. James didn't think it such a good idea to send a girl like Lily off with Sanders; even had there not been that suspicious familiarity; Sanders wasn't, in James' opinion, a very savory character.

James started to shake Lily awake again, sure that once she woke, she would NOT want Sanders taking her to her room.

Lily stirred under James' continued shaking, looked up at Sanders - and smiled, thoroughly startling James.

"Damien," she murmured sleepily, snuggling closer; observing James through half-closed lids, she smiled slightly and drawled, "Damien will take me home," leaving James powerless to do anything but watch as Sanders led Lily away.


End file.
